“Food in schools isn’t just about avoiding hunger. It’s about ensuring tamariki have the nourishment they need to thrive academically and socially.” — Dr Madeline Shelling. (Photo supplied)
Christopher Luxon’s advice to “go make a Marmite sandwich and put an apple in a bag” — in response to widespread complaints about the school lunch programme — wasn’t just tone deaf, writes Dr Madeline Shelling. It exposed a lack of empathy and understanding.
Prime Minister Christopher Luxon’s recent comment on the school lunch programme laid bare a disconnect between our political leadership and the lived realities of many whānau in Aotearoa.
When questioned last week about the substandard, inedible, toxic, burnt lunches offered to children under his government’s watch, he said: “If you’re unhappy with it, for God’s sake, go make a Marmite sandwich and put an apple in a bag, just like you and I had.”
The “you and I” in Luxon’s nostalgic reverie seems to refer to a select group of entitled classmates who, like him, enjoyed the comfort of regular hot meals at home — a far cry from the realities faced by many families today.
His statement isn’t just tone-deaf. It reflects a broader ignorance about food insecurity and assumes that hunger stems from individual failings rather than systemic inequities.
The dismissive attitudes towards the school lunch programme from well-fed politicians — who seem determined to undermine it — reek of privilege. This is the school lunch programme you get when the people in charge don’t believe in or understand the need for a school lunch programme in the first place.
“This is the school lunch programme you get when the people in charge don’t believe in or understand the need for a school lunch programme in the first place.” (Photo: RNZ/Marika Khabazi)
The reality of food insecurity
The research tells a different story. Food insecurity isn’t about laziness or poor choices. It’s about inequity, systemic barriers, and historical injustices.
After eight years of university, I don’t claim to know it all. But during my four years of PhD research on food security and Māori food systems, I interviewed kai experts from all corners of Aotearoa, including gardeners, academics, Māori food truck owners, and lawyers.
Their insights exposed glaring gaps in our approach to food insecurity.
Some of these gaps could be filled by a robust, evidence-based and dignified food-in-schools programme, which is what we had before David Seymour got his hands on it.
But perhaps the most problematic gap is the gulf between the harsh realities of life for many of our struggling families and the privileged bubbles inhabited by those in power, which seems to prevent many of them from understanding the drivers of food insecurity.
A maramataka expert and mother of two put it plainly:
The inequity is like so f*ing obvious. You can go to those rich areas and have access to good kai. You come out South [Auckland], there’s no access to good food. You have access to what you’re supposed to have access to, which is McDonalds, fish and chips, KFC and the liquor stores. That’s normal, so you grow into this life that is all you know.
My sisters haven’t been to Grey Lynn, but if they did, they’d be like “where’s the McDonalds,” you know. It’d be so foreign. It’s the system achieving what it was set up to do.
Systemic inequities shape food environments, trapping whānau in cycles of poor nutrition and limited choices. It’s not just about individual decisions — it’s about a system designed to perpetuate inequity.
Despite producing enough food to feed 40 million people annually, Aotearoa allows its most vulnerable tamariki to go hungry. Food insecurity here is one of the worst in the OECD, and disproportionately affects Māori and Pasifika children.
In 2024, one in three Māori children (34.3 percent) and more than half of Pasifika children (54.8 percent) lived in households where food ran out often or sometimes. This compares to just one in five (21.9 percent) Pākehā and other children in Aotearoa.
Colonialism, capitalism, and the food crisis
These disparities are rooted in colonisation, systemic inequities, and a capitalist food system that prioritises profit over people.
Colonisation severed our connections to our land, to traditional food practices, and to economic independence. The consequences continue to reverberate through to the present day, creating conditions where food insecurity thrives.
Studies reveal how “obesogenic environments” or “food swamps” in low-income neighbourhoods — characterised by an overabundance of fast-food outlets or convenience stores — contribute to health inequities, particularly for Māori and Pasifika.
For instance, in the most deprived areas of Aotearoa, there are 13.7 fast-food outlets per 10,000 people compared to just 3.7 in the least deprived areas. There are also more convenience stores and takeaway outlets within 500 metres of urban schools in lower-income neighbourhoods than in the most well-off neighbourhoods.
These environments reflect systemic neglect, weak policies, and the prioritisation of profit over public health, effectively disarming the “myth of choice” perpetuated by those who’ve never lived in neighbourhoods without a Farro Fresh.
Let them eat Marmite sandwiches
Luxon’s remarks are a painful reminder of how this privilege blinds those in power.
The reality is that, for some families, Marmite sandwiches are already dinner. A school lunch may be the only hot meal a child receives in a day — or even an entire week.
The cost-of-living crisis is pushing basic foods like Marmite out of reach for many whānau. Parents aren’t choosing to send their kids to school hungry — they’re doing their absolute best with what little they have. Families working several jobs and long hours stretch every dollar, yet still fall short. Research shows that mothers often go without so their children can eat. Children without lunch more than likely means hungry parents at home too.
One research participant, a father of four, shared a heartbreaking memory from his school days:
I remember sitting in the classroom with Pākehā children and particularly around playtime or lunchtime, watching them with their lunchboxes, and open up these finely cut pieces of bread . . . the crust had been cut off the sandwiches.
And I’d wait until we’d be lucky enough to see someone actually throw a discarded sandwich, half-eaten sandwich, into the bin and just time it to try and sneak it out and have a taste of it.
This is what food insecurity looks like for far too many tamariki in Aotearoa. It’s not just about hunger or malnutrition — it’s about shame, exclusion, and the emotional toll of going without.
A Marlborough initiative shows the benefits of a locally-run, community-driven school lunch programme. Pictured, Spring Creek School students Anahera, Noah and Ryley with some of the ham, cheese and spinach quiche for Wednesday lunch. (Photo: Marlborough App/William Woodworth)
Lunch, with love
Providing nutritious school lunches is an investment in our tamariki’s hauora, education and future. Feeding our children good kai helps to break cycles of poverty.
Another research participant, who organises a community-driven school lunch programme, highlighted the transformative potential of kai:
Our kaupapa was around the dignity of our kids, the mana of our kids, and the wairua of our kids so that they felt loved and cared for through their kai.
That’s what it was based on, aroha and a real responsibility we felt as a community to do what we could [to] awhi them, to help our kids have full pukus. So that they felt good about themselves and could engage in their education without having to worry about where they were going to get their next meal.
Food in schools isn’t just about avoiding hunger — it’s about ensuring tamariki have the nourishment they need to thrive academically and socially.
The evidence is undeniable: children perform better academically when they are well-fed. Ka Ora Ka Ako was working, and it was based on research that food security directly improves learning outcomes.
Yet, this government’s approach prioritises cost-cutting over compassion, undermining the programme to save $170 million — at the expense of the health, education and potential of our tamariki.
The current food system, driven by competition and profit, is failing our children.
Evidence shows that local programmes using local growers, kitchens, and distributors are far more effective at addressing food insecurity while supporting community resilience.
A Marlborough initiative proves this point. This locally run and community-driven model provided healthier meals, supported local businesses, and ensured children received nutritious, culturally appropriate food.
But instead of expanding such models, the government is dismantling them in favour of a cheaper, centralised system that prioritises cost over quality. As we’ve seen, with the Libelle group now in liquidation, this inefficient system is already crumbling.
The future our tamariki deserve
The recent comments from our political leaders show that they fundamentally misunderstand food insecurity.
Yet, the government has a responsibility to ensure equity, not just equality. Supporting whānau who are struggling to provide kai for themselves and their children isn’t an act of charity — it’s a duty.
Hardship isn’t a personal failing. It’s the result of systemic inequities that demand systemic solutions. A well-funded, localised, and dignified school lunch programme is one such solution.
Instead of slapping on a Marmite sandwich bandaid, our tamariki deserve a future built on evidence, empathy, and a commitment to their wellbeing and education.
Dr Madeline Shelling (Ngāti Porou) is a post-doctoral research fellow at Ihi Research, Ōtautahi. Her research interests include food security, hauora Māori, Indigenous rights and decolonising food systems. She is now undertaking a project developing a Māori kai security assessment tool.
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The problem is that the policy layer is tightly bound to the service layer.
Why should David Seymour have to go around chasing up service providers to manage food in the first place? Its because the policy he is trying to implement is a hierarchical process not a non-hierarchical one.
I.e. One service provider serving another service provider or one service provider serving many service providers.
This mode of self-organisation doesn’t or can’t scale to serve all of the requests that service providers within the food industry have or are creating with one another.
Its an entirely redundant, inappropriate way to govern.
A better way to manage food for our children is to enable parents or service providers to manage their own policies.
I.e. Many service providers serving many other service providers.
Allow them to figure it out for themselves, you know teach a man how to fish type of thing.
This archaic form of governance obviously stretches back thousands of years throughout history and clearly its a bottleneck revealing its incapabilities to scale when we as an apparent human society requires it too.
We require another form of governance that empowers the village to self-manage itself and no longer rely on this antiquated technique of delegating “our” policies through a single service provider i.e. the New Zealand government.
Good article thank you.
Yes the comment by the current PM showed he and others, have absolutely no insight into the needs of our tamariki. The first thing that came to my mind was that a school lunch was likely the only meal some would get all day, as you so rightly pointed out.
Investment in lifelong health will make New Zealand more productive. From conception we are made of the molecules our mother and then we eat. If the right balance of molecules is not incoming every day the body, mind and spirit cannot reach their best potential. It is slavery not to pay a living wage to workers, it is persecution not to feed our children. Further back in the food chain New Zealand does not produce the variety of vegetables and other plant foods required for health. Fat and protein we export and import poor quality carbohydrate. The reset button on mindsets needs to pushed
A very well written piece thank you Dr. Shelling. You have pointed out the failure of our present governance in New Zealand via simplicity.
It’s forgotten how many of our men didn’t measure up health wise in wartime conscript ion This debacle promises more of the same for future generations especially as this govt is killing every initiative in Maori Pasifika health Even the elderly are relegated to being of little worth Historically Maori are expected to be fringe dwellers and this is today’s reality again Let them eat cake?